The Contemptable Business of International Politics...
This accursed society. Rawr. I think I most resent the fact I'm not in the middle of all this shit actually doing something. I realize I probably just want to twist the knife in the stomach until the pain makes me pass out, you know, just because it's better than watching the knife descend in slow motion, watching its shining blade as it comes very near to your flesh so you can feel it penetrate your aura of energy first, and then touch your skin, and make the little cut...oh, so agonizing, you know?
I had such a wonderful day today but now I feel like absolute shit. My parents are making me paranoid (that and reading Newsweek is making me angsty and angry, the blood is pounding in my skull) by "talking to me about going to Washington." Honestly, I think I'd rather be there, even if I die, than stay here. I'm scared enough of everything to begin with, goddamn it!
I've been reading those health articles in magazines and shit about stress, fear and its effects on the body, and I must be a textbook case. Curious muscle strains, fear of leaving loved ones (especially Jess...oh my dear gods, it's impossible for me to tell you how much I just want to have her right here and hold her for the rest of eternity because the world hates me and I hate the world!!!), nightmares (especially the recurring ones, and the ueber-violent ones...) and trouble with concentration and memory. My god.
I refuse to study law. I feel it might make me the same as the uncompromising fools who run our country today. Because lawyers are trained to think in a certain way, and very few of them break the pattern. I hate people who fall into stereotypes because they're trained to be stereotypical. No, it's not that I hate the people...my brain is overflowing and I can't express. How in hell am I going to write my lit essay?
Tell me, goddamn it, how do I have an A- in American history? Fuck this shit.
I can't even begin to tell you how wonderful my day was, it began with Maynard playing Ani DiFranco for me over the morning announcements, which was sweet, even if he is a chauvanist. He's my favorite chauvanist. And then I got hot cocoa from the yearbook people who sell it every morning, and Mr. K must think it's spiked now because I was such a psycho in class. It was awesome. I know I turned beet red at least once. My god I can't control myself. I just want to let it all go...
And history was mediocre, we're watching the Ken Burns Civil War series, which is awesome, I can stay awake through that because it's actually fucking interesting, like the slave narratives. Some of the movies we watch just suck my mother's balls. I swear. I'm not even writing like myself today. I think it's anger and Benjamin Britten and frustration and incoherency and inventing words and headaches and shit and more shit...because. I'll stop now, continuing with my day.
I didn't get any math homework. I understand more of yesterclass's math assignment than I thought I did, and I finished this class's math assignment in class, which is fucking amazing, I've got Ortiz and the man is insane, but the good sort of insane.
I can't eat dinner, I had too much coffee and chocolate and other shit, I think I'm going to puke because the world makes me sad and angry and scared all at once. Is this reality, Mr. Bush? Is this life outside the bubble?
I got my forensics scores back, it looks like 96-98-96, which is pretty fucking good considering, and everyone likes my blocking and my vocal prowess, except I speak too fast and could probably enunciate better, so I'll do that next time, and enter my bid for semis so I can have a cheering section, how awesome would that be?
I got to go to physical therapy, which is always fun, except for strengthening, which is painful, and makes me want to puke, though I don't let my therapist know that because it wouldn't matter anyways. She'd still make me lift the weight with only my wrist and squeeze the rubber band and all that stuff.
I had a Coffee Beanery mocha, which are the best. Besides Java Hutt white mochas.
I'm a Southerner at heart. I heart Virginia, except that she's stealing my girl.
My heart breaks down now, into a many tiny pieces, my sense disintegrates into tears nearly almost, and no one seems to be here to comfort me. I need to puke and no one's going to give me a barf bag on this flight.
I would hate the world more if I thought I'd never be a politician.
I had such a wonderful day today but now I feel like absolute shit. My parents are making me paranoid (that and reading Newsweek is making me angsty and angry, the blood is pounding in my skull) by "talking to me about going to Washington." Honestly, I think I'd rather be there, even if I die, than stay here. I'm scared enough of everything to begin with, goddamn it!
I've been reading those health articles in magazines and shit about stress, fear and its effects on the body, and I must be a textbook case. Curious muscle strains, fear of leaving loved ones (especially Jess...oh my dear gods, it's impossible for me to tell you how much I just want to have her right here and hold her for the rest of eternity because the world hates me and I hate the world!!!), nightmares (especially the recurring ones, and the ueber-violent ones...) and trouble with concentration and memory. My god.
I refuse to study law. I feel it might make me the same as the uncompromising fools who run our country today. Because lawyers are trained to think in a certain way, and very few of them break the pattern. I hate people who fall into stereotypes because they're trained to be stereotypical. No, it's not that I hate the people...my brain is overflowing and I can't express. How in hell am I going to write my lit essay?
Tell me, goddamn it, how do I have an A- in American history? Fuck this shit.
I can't even begin to tell you how wonderful my day was, it began with Maynard playing Ani DiFranco for me over the morning announcements, which was sweet, even if he is a chauvanist. He's my favorite chauvanist. And then I got hot cocoa from the yearbook people who sell it every morning, and Mr. K must think it's spiked now because I was such a psycho in class. It was awesome. I know I turned beet red at least once. My god I can't control myself. I just want to let it all go...
And history was mediocre, we're watching the Ken Burns Civil War series, which is awesome, I can stay awake through that because it's actually fucking interesting, like the slave narratives. Some of the movies we watch just suck my mother's balls. I swear. I'm not even writing like myself today. I think it's anger and Benjamin Britten and frustration and incoherency and inventing words and headaches and shit and more shit...because. I'll stop now, continuing with my day.
I didn't get any math homework. I understand more of yesterclass's math assignment than I thought I did, and I finished this class's math assignment in class, which is fucking amazing, I've got Ortiz and the man is insane, but the good sort of insane.
I can't eat dinner, I had too much coffee and chocolate and other shit, I think I'm going to puke because the world makes me sad and angry and scared all at once. Is this reality, Mr. Bush? Is this life outside the bubble?
I got my forensics scores back, it looks like 96-98-96, which is pretty fucking good considering, and everyone likes my blocking and my vocal prowess, except I speak too fast and could probably enunciate better, so I'll do that next time, and enter my bid for semis so I can have a cheering section, how awesome would that be?
I got to go to physical therapy, which is always fun, except for strengthening, which is painful, and makes me want to puke, though I don't let my therapist know that because it wouldn't matter anyways. She'd still make me lift the weight with only my wrist and squeeze the rubber band and all that stuff.
I had a Coffee Beanery mocha, which are the best. Besides Java Hutt white mochas.
I'm a Southerner at heart. I heart Virginia, except that she's stealing my girl.
My heart breaks down now, into a many tiny pieces, my sense disintegrates into tears nearly almost, and no one seems to be here to comfort me. I need to puke and no one's going to give me a barf bag on this flight.
I would hate the world more if I thought I'd never be a politician.